The Light of Valinor
by Tam Breo
Summary: LotRTamora Pierce Crossover: Legolas Greenleaf finally seeks the light of Valinor-- but there are no humans on Valinor. This could not be Valinor, then.


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Reviews of any kind are much appreciated; they really make my day. I've got big plans for this story - so please be patient!  
  
I make no money from this, and I in no way own the recognizable characters used in this story.  
  
Chapter One  
  
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Gimli was dead.  
  
Legolas was loath to admit it to himself, even deep in his heart, and he was struck by grief for his true Dwarf friend. Brother, even. It was in these events that turned the mourning Elf's eyes to the West. After many tears and farewells on behalf of his family and friends, and all that was being left behind, Legolas Thranduillion set out over the sea for Valinor, where ages ago his kin had once dwelt, and where he had still kin waiting for him.  
  
Through sleek mists and furious waves the Sea bore him. Legolas could not see the sun, he could not see any land, or trees, or any of the things he had loved, and he despaired, fearing he would never see the blessed realm and he would be lost. But it was not to be, and one day- he only guessed it was day, for no more than several feet could he see to either side, and it seemed there was no sun- one day the mists cleared, and his keen eyes saw a spot upon the horizon. More than the salty spray wetted his cheeks, and he made ever toward it.  
  
The sun shone to Legolas' eyes brighter than ever it did, and the wind and spray and crisp smell on the air was welcomed with a light heart. His troubles would be no more, for the last days they had tormented him like a plague for what he had lost, no, given up, and he could forget them for a small while as he watched the shore grow larger and closer. He could make out trees upon tall rocks, how he had longed for them! and a rocky beach was pounded by white crested waves.  
  
He was very close now. Legolas saw high white walls, and the rock heights soared above him. The sound of the keel of his small ship grinding against sand and pebbles was the sweetest he ever heard. Legolas pulled the boat further up the shore where it wouldn't be sucked away by the tide, and gathered his things from it, and all his belongings he had brought, which was very little. He looked around again, and turned his face to the sun, enjoying firm ground and warm rays. That was where all things stemmed to run awry.  
  
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Where were his kin, waiting to meet him after his long journey? Where were the great gates of gold and silver that would lead to the blessed city, and the music of his ancestors that had never truly began, and never ended, one leaving off as another elven voice rose above the music? Perhaps they did not know I was coming, he realized. They did not expect it, I did not expect it so soon myself.  
  
He would find the city himself, and be welcomed into the halls of Valinor with all waiting to meet him. Legolas walked along the beach, at first merely admiring the sounds, the sights. He found a small path leading between the rocks, leading upward, and he took it. The high walls were out of sight now, but he fixed their direction in his mind. Legolas would find them again.  
  
He climbed and climbed, finally the path steepened, and then came out onto level ground. Legolas was slightly dissapointed by the sight. The place was deserted. He stood at the edge of a wide road, leading off into the trees to his right. Legolas fought down disheartening thoughts. What if this was not Valinor, or the Lonely Isle where elves yet live? His mind raced. What if this was...somewhere else? A mistake? He slowly forced himself to calm down. After all, he reasoned, ignoring the little voice of worry in the back of his head, this could be a test, one that you have to pass to be let into Manwe's Halls. It didn't seem very convincing, even in his mind, and there had been no tales mentioning this, but it was all he had. If it was not, he thought he might travel to Valinor some other way, a quicker way, but he did not want to think about that.  
  
That night Legolas entered the wood beside the road that he had been traveling that day, where he could still hear any travelers on the road, but not be seen by any. Legolas did not quite dare kill anything for food, so he ate what he could find along with the remains of his supplies, which wasn't much. He kept his bow strung and ready, just in case, but there were no travelers. Dark thoughts crept into his mind that night, and he slept little.  
  
The next day was similar. The road turned away from the shore and the trees grew less dense here, but there was no sign of elves. No sign of people.  
  
It was early on the third day that Legolas heard hooves trampling the ground, not coming too fast but there were many of them. Legolas had his ear to the ground, and he could pick up the vibrations made. Debating whether to get off the road, his positive side won, and Legolas could only hope that they were friends. He fingered his bow, still strung and oiled, just in case.  
  
The first of the riders appeared, riding at a slow lope toward him, and Legolas couldn't help but be slightly nervous. Then they must have saw him and given speed to their pace, and Legolas saw what he had hoped he would not. They were human.  
  
Queer, and oddly garbed, but definitely human. There were no mortals in Valinor.  
  
He was not in Valinor, then.  
  
He wanted to look away, to make them turn around, to go, and his family would find him and tell him it was a terrible mistake, but the minutes passed and it did not happen. The riders eventually surounded him in an efficient, precise maneuver, but Legolas did not care. It did not matter, and whatever means that could have sent him to his eternal destination he desperately wished to fall upon him. But he could not do it, and so he was left to these humans to be judged at will, and no blow came. His eyes betrayed him, his defiant posture identified him, his being marked him: a skilled warrior, the proud son of the king, and a foreigner.  
  
"Sidh!" said Legolas loudly. He registered confusion on some of the men's faces, he looked at the knight in gleaming mail armor, he was the leader. [Peace!]  
  
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" The knight demanded, and Legolas was surprised to hear a woman's voice. He recognized the speech, but it was strangely accented and with many distortions.  
  
"I am called Legolas, of the Realm of Mirkwood. What is this land called?" asked the Elf.  
  
"You are in Tortall, under the reign of King Jonathan the Third. You did not answer my question, what are you doing here?" The knight's voice was hard.  
  
Legolas felt his heart sink lower. He had heard of no Tortall nor any King Jonathan either, and it confirmed his fear. "I came over the sea," he said, his voice carrying itself to all of the riders, assuming that that explained all.  
  
The knight frowned then, for she had lifted her visor and was now conferring with two other men. Legolas heard someone whispering behind him, but he dare not turn and see. He caught a few of the quiet words: "...not with...low hum...almost..." Legolas did not have more time to listen, for the knight turned back to him.  
  
"Would you come with us, Legolas of the Mirkwood Realm?" It was not really a question, and Legolas knew it. They gave him a spare horse, which he mounted with ease, and if he rode in the middle of the party at all times he said nothing. He felt eyes boring into his back. He felt something, it felt strange, like an ache in his mind, but Elves did not get headaches, and suddenly he felt a jolt and it was gone, and he snapped his head around to look behind him. His attention was drawn immediately to a girl on a steely grey pony, with brown hair and blue-grey eyes looking at him widened in surprise. A tall man was next to her, and he felt like he was being studied by him, taken apart and examined, and Legolas shivered involintarily and straightened.  
  
It was not too long after when the white walls came into view, the same he had seen from the beach, and now he could clearly see metal gates, and guards up on the battlements, and men looked curiously and watchfully from the gatehouse above as they passed through.  
  
Most warriors that had come with them went off to various places, quickly and readily. A small gathering was there to greet them, men and women and children, all mortal. Legolas' horse had been taken, and now he was waiting to find out what was to be done with him. A man stood near, he had apparently been told to watch him. Legolas felt something sliding against his ankle. He stepped away and looked, giving a startled yelp and backing quickly. It was a dragon.  
  
A small dragon, surely, but there was no mistaking it. The Elf's eyes were wide and surprised as the dragon followed him, and Legolas kept retreating away. "Kit! Stop that." The young girl that had been riding with them before came up, with her pony on her heels. She scooped the dragon up in her arms, talking to it, scolding it seemingly, and Legolas blinked in confusion. "I'm very sorry, Kit's just a babe you see," the girl appologized. "I hope she didn't startle you, but she's curious. I'm Diane." The girl was shed of her awkwardness quickly, Legolas thought. She extended her hand towards him, and for a minute he stared at it. Then, realizing he was in a strange land with strange customs, he took her hand and gently kissed the back of it, inclining his head as he did so.  
  
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Diane. Please call me Legolas." Diane blushed, and gave a small 'Oh', and Legolas wondered what she had wanted him to do with her hand after all, if he had done wrong. She smiled a little in embarassment at how he pronounced her name with his strange accent.  
  
"Master Legolas, my Lord Baron would like to see you." Legolas nodded. He put his hand over his heart and slightly inclined his head in farewell to the Lady Diane, and followed the man that had spoken. As he followed he had plenty of time to study his strange attire. He was led into one of the larger buildings, up stairs, around turns and down hallways. Doors lined some of the smaller halls and Legolas wondered what lay beyond. The man halted outside a lone door at the end of the hall. He knocked, and a moment later another man opened the door. The man made room for him to enter, which he did, and the other, after exchanging a word or two with this new human, left. Legolas examined the room.  
  
It appeared to be some sort of study. There was a large desk and a small round table. Legolas, while he was for a moment unwatched, took a step closer to it and reached out a finger to brush the smooth surface. It was glass, and underneath was a map that fitted it. He found mountains and rivers, cities, lakes, the shoreline. He tried to find a place that could be as big as where he was now, maybe to find out the name. He heard someone clearing their throat behind him, and Legolas turned quickly. He found the interested-looking man was watching him.  
  
"That is a map of all of Tortall and surrounding lands. My wife tells me you were found on her way here. Why are you here, then? And if you don't mind me asking, what are you? You cannot be human."  
  
Legolas drew himself up to his full height, though he was barely taller than the Baron. "I assure you, I am not human. I am an Elf."  
  
"An Elf? I have not heard of Elfs. Are you an immortal?"  
  
"Yes, I am. All Elves are." Not heard of Elves? Legolas thought.  
  
"Elves, excuse me." He tapped his nose thoughtfully, than turned his solemn gaze back to the Elf. "What can you tell me? Are you enemies of the crown? Who are you allied with, under whose command do you come here? That is what I want to know."  
  
Legolas saw no problem in answering this. "I am friends with all enemies of the dark powers. As for allies and commands, I have none, and I seek none. I had no intention of finding myself in your lands, but apparently I have been misguided. A lone traveler could hope for more kindness than your people have shown, if I may be so bold, Lord Baron."  
  
George considered this for a moment. Then he smiled a little grimly. "My apologies then. We do not welcome travelers as we have done in the past in these dangerous times. Especially if they are not human. You must forgive me. I am Baron George of Pirates Swoop. I do not believe I was given your name, however." He was watching Legolas intently.  
  
"I am Prince Legolas Greenleaf Thranduillion of the Greenwood. I accept your apology, though the reason for it has yet to be stated. If it is your will, I shall leave immediately." A blue fire burned in his eyes.  
  
"You cannot leave now." The unexpected response was greeted with silence. "You may, if you are determined, but you won't get far. You were lucky to be found by that last group that came in. If you were to look outside the palace walls right now, I think you would find a small army blocking your passage. Unless you didn't know?"  
  
The Elf's calm composure was shattered, he had to grip the table to keep from staggering. "W-what?"  
  
George sighed, and rubbed his temple. "If you are truly what you say you are, then all that awaits you beyond the city walls is death. Accomadations would be made if you were to stay here, the wisest course of action I think." George beckoned him to follow, and they left the room together.  
  
"You are at war, Baron George?" His steps quickened to match the long strides of the man.  
  
"Yes. You can hardly blame us for being suspicious of a lone immortal outside our gates. Immortals make up most of the army out there. They and their leader. Though," he added as an after thought, "You look like no immortal I have ever seen."  
  
They were outside and crossing the grounds. People went from here to there, and a tense hush had settled over the entire place, save for quiet words here and there. George stopped more than once to give orders and speak with several seeming officers. Finally they made it up to one of the walltops. Legolas found several humans there in various positions, none of them looked to be warriors except for the female knight with the fiery hair who was a ways away.  
  
"Diane, Numair." The girl with the dragon and another, taller man came closer. He held a whispered comference with the two that Legolas could not make out, while the Elf stood nearby waiting, uncomfortably concious of his strange appearance. He noticed both the newcomers glanced at him while they were talking.  
  
Diane frowned intensely as George and the immortal left her, Numair and several other mages alone. "I don't know if I can do it," she said when the Elf and George had disappeared down the stairs.  
  
"Why not? You sense immortals, you should sense these Elves." Numair took a seat crosslegged beside her.  
  
"I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "He doesn't feel like anything I've felt before. It's almost like..."  
  
"Almost like what?" Numair encouraged when she did not continue, thoroughly interested. "Try to explain it."  
  
Diane made a face then tried to put it into words. "A human feels like a human, no matter what kind. All animals have that same animal feel to them. Immortals too, a mix of one and the other. But not this one. This Legolas, he feels..." She paused, thinking hard. "He feels like he's made of different stuff entirely." Again she paused, contemplating. Then she spoke again.  
  
"Remember that first night, when you helped me to see my magic?" she asked, and he nodded. Neither would forget that night.  
  
"There is something I did not tell you. When we were leaving - I saw a tree sprite. She was made of the stuff of the trees. That is what he felt like." Diane looked up, and Numair's gaze met hers in a sudden, complete, and silent understanding.  
  
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to be continued. 


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